Behind the Strips
by ElikAruna
Summary: DISCONTINUED. Japan discovers one of his citizens is making a webcomic about personified nations. Intent on stopping the mangaka, Japan joins America in New York as they attempt to prevent the leak of the world's oldest secret. Featuring Himaruya Hidekaz.
1. Chapter 1

**Behind the Strips**

Chapter 1

-August, 2006-

A click here. A flick there. Pull this lever, now twist this one, then squeeze and— A roaring blast fired from the cannon-sized gun. The ground shook and trembled. The burst propelled a cloud of dust and grass back at them. Worst of all, the explosion was loud, too loud. Japan quickly ripped his headset off and rubbed his ears. "Ow…" he muttered to himself. He looked back up at his computer monitor and waited for the dust to settle. He fidgeted with the volume while he waited and placed the headset around his neck for later. When he placed his fingers back on the keyboard, the on-screen field was clear again. He glanced around the field, looking for the change he had expected, but saw nothing. He turned his camera to face America's character. America was looking off in the direction he had fired, his supersized gun resting on his shoulder. Of course, he was grinning as always, looking quite proud of his work. Japan turned back to the mountain at which America had aimed. "Pardon me, but I am not sure what your new weapon is supposed to do. What are we looking at?" Japan asked, putting his headset back on.

"It hasn't hit the target yet! Or, that part of the program hasn't started running yet. I need to work out a few bugs to speed it up, but I wanted you to see it while you were logged in—oh! There! There! Look!" America yelled, pointing at the mountain.

Japan turned to see a large red splat hit and run down the side of the mountain, followed by another, and another. The missiles of red paint splattered the peak until it was covered completely, the cliff dripping with excess paint runoff. "You…painted the mountain red."

"Yeah! Isn't it awesome? I modified my gun so it can be used as a long range paint gun too!" America laughed. "I finally painted a mountain red!" he cheered. Japan couldn't help but smile. At least it was only a computer generated mountain and not Mt. Fuji.

Japan and America were playing Fantasia, an RPG the two had co-created. It was nice that the game offered them a way to hang out together on days like these when they weren't working, even though they lived an ocean apart. The game also provided a project that could keep them as busy as they wanted to be. Lately, Japan wanted to be as busy as possible. His mental filter had been acting up recently and giving him a headache. As a nation, he, like every other nation, could tune in to the thoughts and emotions of their citizens. Some called it being able to read minds, while the older nations said they were omniscient. Sometimes nations had to directly focus on a person to learn their thoughts. Other times the thoughts of their citizens came to them so rapidly, it was difficult to filter them out and think for themselves. Japan, more often than not, had the latter problem. He found that concentrating on a task and keeping himself busy blocked out the excess noise. However the moment he stopped, the thoughts started pouring in.

_But what if he doesn't feel the same way I do about him?_

_If I buy potatoes, we could have nikujaga for dinner._

_I can't show this grade to Mom!_

Japan shook his head to try and clear his mind. "America," he said, hoping the man could distract him again from his encroaching headache.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. So what do you think? Isn't it totally awesome?" America asked.

"Ah, I suppose, although it isn't very practical."

"Oh, but look, it totally could be! Like, say we ever need to redesign the texture on the mountains. All we gotta do is fire the paint off! It'd be way quicker than writing up code! Here, look, I was thinking I'd paint that mountain white and that one over there blue, and I bet I could program it to scatter spray a big red dot on that mountain—see that big one there? That one could be yours. And if I can figure that out, then downsizing it to make white and blue polka dots shouldn't be too difficult, although I think stars would be out of the question."

"Why would we need to paint the mountains to look like our flags?"

"Why not! Mountains are boring just being all gray or brown like that. We should decorate them! That's why I carve faces into my mountains out west." Suddenly America's eyes widened. "Oh! Dude! I should make a virtual Mt. Rushmore." America's character sat down and pulled the gun into his lap to start tinkering. He began rattling off numbers and code as though Japan knew he was talking about, but Japan always let America take care of programming the guns. He preferred designing other aspects, such as the mechanics for casting. As he watched America play with his weapon, the thoughts began to pick up again.

_Maybe I should get a job so I can buy all this manga._

_I'll ask her, "Would you like to get something to eat?" No, that won't do._

Japan shook his head and rubbed at his forehead.

_This job is exhausting. I just want to go home already._

_Perhaps Japan should be calmer. Formal, serious, even bordering on stoic. _

What?

_I'll draw Japan with flat eyes then. Soulless eyes like this would reflect that calmness. Next to Germany and Italy's antics, he probably won't be popular anyway, so such a design should be fine._

What was this? Japan suddenly had the urge to tell the man that he is quite popular, or at least not unpopular. But what in the world was this man talking about? He analyzed it over and over in his head but could make no sense of it. Finally, Japan decided there was no other way. He removed his headset and leaned back in his chair. America would be fine by himself for a moment.

Japan closed his eyes, held his forehead, and focused on the earlier thoughts. Quickly, his mind connected with his citizen's. He could see through the man's eyes, hear through his ears, felt a pen in his grip, and of course the thoughts running clearly around in his head.

Quickly observing the room, Japan could tell the man sat at a table with a pen in his hand and a sketch pad in front of him. The paper was covered with numerous sketches and the occasional note. Japan stared at the notes and knew that were he not in tune with the man's mind, he would not be able to read the handwriting. On the left of the paper was the word "Italy", on the right was "Germany," and at the bottom, "Japan." Various sketches covered the page. The doodles on the left seemed to be completely different people, while those on the right and at the bottom were more focused to one design. Japan watched the hand shade in a pair of eyes on a profile that quite resembled himself. _That should do it, _the man thought. _Japan, Germany, and…Italy still doesn't look right. _The man started to absent-mindlessly redraw and shade the different faces on the left side of the page. _Well, I almost have character designs. As for the plot, it'll definitely focus on World War II, but what part? The beginning preparations wouldn't be too intense, so…perhaps the first scene could be them all meeting. Although since they're both in Europe, Germany and Italy would have known each other before meeting Japan. How should I have them meet? I could start with that._

They met in World War I when Germany found Italy hiding in a box of tomatoes, Japan thought. He knew that story. Italy had told him many times. The man however seemed very confused. _How old is Germany? When would they have met? Did they just meet or would they have known each other for centuries? _Japan felt the man stand up from his chair. _I'll have to do some research. _

Japan felt frustrated. He still could not figure out what the man was up to. This was just confusing and there was only one way he was going to get any clear answers. He took a deep breath and plunged deeper into the man's mind.

Rapid, chaotic noise reverberated all around him. Screeching. Howling. Static waves. Kettle whistling. Records scratching backwards. All of it beating against his skin and bones, thrumming at his skull. Burning lights flashed around him like a Disco Pogo rave, disturbing images haunting the edges of his vision. The very core of his mind, carved open and raw. Japan grasped blindly and clawed his way out.

Japan lunged forward in his chair and gasped for air as though he had been held underwater. That man's mind was terrifying. It was like a rabid alpaca farm in there. But he found what he was looking for.

It was a webcomic. The man was a beginning artist creating a manga about World War II. But what Japan now understood chilled him to the bone. The story wasn't about soldiers or leaders or even the soldiers' families back home. It was about the countries themselves. Living, breathing, personifications of nations. The man had dreamed up something that, unknown to him, actually existed. No one knew that the countries actually walked around and lived amongst their citizens. Only their bosses knew. And this man was going to make a comic about it and publish it and spill each government's most protected secret to the Internet.

Japan leaned forward and rubbed his eyes open to see America's face covering his entire computer monitor. He could hear America yelling from the headset on the floor, "HEY JAPAN! ARE YOU OKAY OVER THERE?" Japan picked up his equipment from the floor and reentered the world of Fantasia.

"Hey, there you are! Did you go AFK? You know you should tell people before you do that!" said America.

"Oh, yes, I had to take care of something for a moment," said Japan. America frowned. "Didn't it go well? You look like you're shaking."

Japan looked down at his hands clutching the controller. They were still trembling from digging through the man's mind, and the motion control was making his whole character shake. "It went fine. It was just a bit unnerving," said Japan. America gave a light smile and tilted his head in a confused manner. "I don't really have time to explain. I have to go take care of something."

"Huh? Hey wait! Where are you going?" America yelled. Japan's hand froze just as he was about to click log off. Where _was_ he going? Where did this citizen even live? "Actually, I am not sure. I will have to check. Excuse me just a moment."

Japan closed his eyes and recalled the feeling of that man to focus in on his thoughts again. He could see the man walking through a city, but it was certainly not one of his own. Japan noticed a poster on a bus as it passed. "New York," Japan said. "He's in America."

"Hm?"

Japan opened his eyes and realized America's character was still standing beside him, and had clearly heard him speak aloud to himself.

"Ah, one of my citizens," Japan told him. "I need to deal with him, but he is apparently living in New York." America's face lit up. "So you're coming over to visit?" America asked.

"Yes, I suppose so. Although it is for business—"

"Japan's coming to visit! Yahoo!" America cheered and jumped up and down, narrowly missing beaming Japan in the head with his gun. "I'll fly over and pick you up!"

"Oh, no, thank you but I would rather leave right away than wait for you to arrive. I will take the earliest plane to New York," said Japan.

"Alright, then I'll pick you up at the airport! In the meantime, who are we tracking down? I could find out where they live while you're on the plane."

"His name is Himaruya Hidekaz."

* * *

><p>AN:

Would you believe this is my first published fanfic? It took me so long just to write this first chapter, but I'm hoping it will go faster once I'm in the meat of the story. I'll try to write the next chapter as soon as I can. In the meantime, some constructive criticism and reviews would be wonderful and would help in the writing process for the next chapter! If you have any questions, feel free to ask! Since I still haven't quite worked out the system for messaging here on ffnet, I'll also mention I'm available on tumblr as elikaruna as well.

The timeline for Himaruya creating Hetalia in this fic is mostly made up. As none of his early strips have dates on them, and I couldn't get any real answers from anyone, I had to take an educated guess. If anyone has a chronology for when the strips were posted, I would love to see it so I can make this as accurate as I can!

Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Behind the Strips**

Chapter 2

America was there waiting for Japan when he exited the airport. He was waving his arms madly and shouting loud enough for the entire terminal to hear him, "Kiku! Kiku! Over here! Kiku!" Japan quickly made his way over before America could think to climb onto the roof of his car or do something equally ridiculous to grab attention. "Alright, let's get going! Just toss your bag in the back there," America said, sliding over the hood of his car to hop into the driver's seat. Japan neatly tucked his single bag of luggage into the back seat and turned to the passenger side door, open and waiting for him.

Japan took a deep breath to steel his nerves. He reminded himself that he had driven with America numerous times before and had always come out unharmed. Still, that knowledge made it no less frightening. America leaned over the center console. "Dude, what are you doing? Get in." Japan climbed in and America sped off before Japan could fully shut the door. He quickly fumbled with his seatbelt and latched onto the closest thing he could grab as America zipped around the airport and raced out onto the highway.

America looked over at Japan. "Dude, why are you grabbing the oh-shit-bar? I'm not even doing 80."

Japan peeled his face off the window. "Please keep your eyes on the road." America shrugged and turned back. "I know these roads like the back of my hand, well, actually it's my shoulder, but don't worry!" After a few minutes of straight, albeit fast and bumpy driving, Japan relaxed enough to rest his arm in his lap. America noticed this and grinned. "So how was your flight? Are you exhausted?" America asked.

"Not really. I'm alright. The plane ride was very long as always. I managed to sleep part of it but I'm sure I will feel jetlagged later," said Japan, looking over at America.

America nodded. "Alright, so we'll try and take care of this business before it kicks in. Um, by the way," he asked, turning to look at Japan, "what is this business anyway? What do you need to talk to this guy about?"

Japan gripped the bar again as America was distracted from the road. Should he tell him what he was here for? No doubt America would insist on involving himself in the situation if he found out. Although, it could be useful to have his assistance, there was also the chance of his excitement causing trouble and adding to the problem. But it would also be, at the very least, polite to inform the country on whose land this was taking place of the issue at stake.

America glanced back and forth between Japan and the road. "If it's a secret, you don't really need to tell me. Especially if it's some secret government mission from your boss! Although, if that's the case I probably shouldn't even be driving you. But if it is a secret mission and you're carrying it out in my land then maybe I should be told—"

"It is not a secret mission from my boss. He does not know there is an issue. He thinks I'm just over here to visit you," explained Japan.

"Really? Is it okay to keep things from your boss like that?" asked America.

Japan nodded, facing forward again. "Hai. I want to take care of it before it reaches my boss. If it escalates to that level, then we would already be in a great deal of trouble." America tilted his head. "What sort of trouble? Come on, tell me what's going on," he whined.

Japan glanced at America again and noticing the pout the man was wearing. He sighed and hung his head. "I suppose I might as well," Japan said, causing America to break into a wide grin. "The man we are going to meet, Himaruya-san, he is an art student at one of your schools."

"Yeah, Parsons in Greenwich Village. We're going there now," said America.

Japan nodded. "In addition to his studies, he also seems to be creating a comic."

"Like a comic book? That's so cool! What's it about? Are there superheroes in it?" America rambled off a number of questions. Japan put his hand up to cut America off. "No, I think it's more like a webcomic. It's not actually a manga. But as for what it's about, well, that is the problem."

"Yeah? What's wrong with it?"

"It is about…us. It is about personified countries. I saw him draw up character designs for Italy, Germany, and mys—"

"Dude! That's awesome! He's gonna make a comic about us! Can it be a superhero comic? Could he make me the superhero? Cuz it would be totally awesome if he gave me like the ability to fly or super strength or x-ray vision or something wicked like that!" yelled America as he turned to Japan, arms flailing in excitement.

"America, please put your hands back on the wheel!" Japan yelled. America raised an eyebrow, as though he completely forgot he was driving, and turned back to swerve around the car in front of them that they almost rear ended. Settled into the new lane, America glanced to Japan curled up into a ball in his seat. "Oh, don't worry! We're fine!"

"Please don't do that again," Japan said to his knees. America grinned, "So, about the superhero comic?"

"He is not making a superhero comic. It's about World War II," Japan said, trying to relax back into his seat but still shaking.

"Oh… well that's okay! It could still be about superheroes! Captain America was set in World War II so—"

"It is not about superheroes. It is just about us in World War II. He talked about doing research, so it sounds as though it is supposed to be historically based. Also, I did not see any character designs for a United States of America."

"Wh-what?"

"It seems as though you are not in the comic," he explained slowly.

"But-but that's totally unfair! I've always wanted to be in a comic! And you can't have a story about World War II without me in it. I mean, how would it… well, you know." Japan noticed America grow quickly uncomfortable with the conversation, and easily guessed what he meant. "How would it end, you mean?" Japan suggested.

"W-well, yeah." America gulped. "Um, s-so who else is in the story? Is England in it?"

"No. So far it is just Italy, Germany and myself."

"What? Dude, that sounds totally lame. You can't have a story about World War II without any of the Allies. A good story needs conflict! Without both sides of the war, how will there be any conflict?"

"The culture clash between Germany and Italy is probably enough conflict on its own," Japan said quietly to himself.

"So why is this an issue anyway? Even with its plot problems, it sounds pretty cool, so why are we going to see him?" asked America.

"America, think about it. Himaruya-san is telling the entire internet world that we exist. Don't you think that would be a security issue?" said Japan.

"But he's not really. He just came up with this idea on his own and is making a comic about it. People know the difference between reality and a made up story," said America, twisting his expression into a frown.

"Are you sure of that? I know I have some strange citizens who think their life is an anime, and there are people in England who carry wands with them because of watching Harry Potter. Even in your own country, I bet you could find something like that."

America thought in silence for a moment, then hung his head. "Yeah, I've got those crazy people who think they're vampires. Alright, I guess we'll go," he sighed. Resigned, America focused back on the road in front of him. Japan breathed a small sigh of relief, but left his hand gripping the handle just in case.

The drive into Manhattan was fairly smooth as it was mostly highways. America was flipped off by another driver only twice, which was a personal best for him in Brooklyn. Finally after stop-and-go traffic on 5th Avenue, missing their turn and having to double back, and a lengthy debate over whether or not their parking space was actually a parking space, the two arrived at Parsons New School of Design.

Kiku stood on the sidewalk admiring the building as he waited for Alfred to grab something out of his car. The school didn't really resemble a school. It was more like the entrance to a small, plainly decorated art museum sandwiched between a British pub and a bank. "This is an art school?" Kiku asked to the man now crawling and digging around the back seat of his car.

"Of course! Check out the art deco! Doesn't it look like an art school? Oh, I found it!" Alfred yelled as he pulled out a thick manila folder. Kiku looked back at the school. Yes, it was definitely America's style of art. "It's actually a pretty big school," Alfred continued." Even though this building looks small, there are campuses all over the city, and even in Europe." Kiku nodded. "So he's in there?" he asked.

"Yup!" Alfred finally climbed out of the car, locked it, and opened the folder he had dug out. "Let's see, it's almost eleven o'clock," he said, looking through the papers inside, "so this guy should be…oh, his class ends in a few minutes! Maybe we can catch him walking out of his classroom."

"You have his class schedule?" Kiku asked. Alfred held up the folder to show him. "Well you said to get information on him. So, I got it!" Kiku's eyes widened. He was slightly concerned at how easily America had found information on one of his citizens. "Um, where did you find it all?" he asked.

"This is just basic stuff," Alfred said. "Like medical records he turned in to the school, a copy of his passport, you know, any of that normal stuff he had to submit to get into the country. Look, here's his passport photo. It helps to know exactly who we're looking for, right?"

Alfred slipped a small piece of paper out of a paperclip and held it out to Kiku. "Hmm…he kind of looks like Estonia-san." Alfred took back the photo to take a second look. "Oh yeah! He does! Alright, so we're trying to find a Japanese-looking Eduard. That makes it easy." Alfred slipped the photo back into the folder, slapped it shut, and tucked it under his arm. "Let's go!" he cheered, with an enthusiastic fist pump.

Kiku followed Alfred into the building. The inside was very modern, and though it displayed a few pieces of student art hung from the ceiling, most of the walls were still a blank canvas. Kiku was about to mention this to Alfred, but then noticed he had wandered down an empty hallway. Kiku chased after him. "Do you know where you're going?"

Alfred shrugged. "Not really, but his class is in room 318, so I'm just following the signs." They reached the end of the hallway and continued up a flight of stairs. "By the way," Alfred asked as he swung around the banister and up the next flight, "what are you gonna do when we find this guy? Do you even know what you're gonna say to him?" Kiku paused on his step. He hadn't thought of that. He couldn't exactly walk up to the man and tell him to stop drawing his comic without looking like an insane mind reader at best. "I…don't know. I may have forgotten about that part."

"Oh. Well, that's okay! I'm good at winging things like this!" Alfred said as he raced up the few remaining stairs and out into the hallway. Kiku quickly chased after him, yelling, "Wait, Alfred, that's not a good idea!" He exited the stairwell and attempted to catch his breath as he looked up and down the hallway for which way Alfred had gone. Students were beginning to exit their classes now, and Alfred was weaving around them as he tried to find the classroom before their target disappeared. Kiku fought his way through the heavily increasing crowd up to where Alfred had stopped. Alfred grabbed Kiku's shoulder, pointed, and whispered loudly, "There he is!" Kiku caught a quick glimpse of their target walking away from them, chatting lightly with another man beside him. Alfred darted forward to catch up to them, but Kiku grabbed the hem of his shirt. "Hold on! We shouldn't rush in without thinking. We need some sort of plan."

"But they're getting away! What if we just tail them for now? That's a plan right?"

"Um, I suppo—"

"Alright, let's go!" Alfred said, dragging Kiku by the collar and running down the hallway before Himaruya disappeared.

Alfred and Kiku peeked around a corner as they spied on their target. Himaruya and his friend had met up with another man and the three of them were entering the library. Alfred and Kiku quickly darted after them, and Alfred jammed his foot in the door before it could slam close. The two slipped in and Kiku made sure the door shut silently.

Kiku quickly glanced around the library. Like any typical library, it had rows upon rows of floor to ceiling books and a few rows of shorter shelves. To the right were a few couches and a small coffee shop tucked into the corner. There were a few people on the couches pouring over books, but nobody noticed their entrance. Alfred grabbed Kiku's hand and dragged him over to the left, into the stacks.

Alfred peeked around the end of the bookshelf. "There they are," he whispered. Kiku peeked around as well. Beyond a few rows of shorter shelves were a line of tables, the first of which sat Himaruya and his…friends? classmates? roommates? acquaintances? The three of them took a few notebooks out of their backpacks, then the two men disappeared into the taller bookshelves while Himaruya remained at the table scribbling something in a notebook.

Alfred looked over his shoulder at Kiku. "What's he doing?" he asked. He watched Kiku close his eyes for a short moment, then open them and say, "He's outlining a strip. Something about Italy making preparations for the war." Alfred frowned and turned back to their target. Suddenly Alfred ducked down and started crawling up the aisle, stopping part way to wave at Kiku to follow him, and then crawled into the row of books nearest Himaruya. Franticly looking around, Kiku sighed and followed him. He caught up to Alfred sitting on the floor, rearranging the books in front of him to spy through the shelf. Kiku looked back and forth between Alfred and Himaruya. They were probably close enough to hear him breathing if they listened closely. "Now what?" Kiku mouthed silently to Alfred. Alfred only grinned and put a finger to his lips.

They waited. They watched their target sketch away, only once rejoined by the other members of his study group so they could drop a stack of books on the table before disappearing into the shelves again. Kiku flipped through a few different art history books he pulled off the shelf in front of him. Occasionally he glanced over to Alfred, but he remained silently focused on staring at Himaruya. Kiku wasn't sure what he was waiting for. Was he even waiting for something? Did he even have a plan?

"Oi, Kazu! Ven aqui! Look at this!" Kiku quickly looked up to see Himaruya flinch, drop his pen, and turn towards the man calling him.

"What is it?" he said, standing up from his seat. Kiku heard shuffling next to him and turned to see Alfred down at the end of the row of books, with a great grin, a gleam in his eye, and poised to pounce.

"Just come and see, okay?" the man said in a thick Spanish accent before ducking back into the row of books. Himaruya sighed and said, "You don't need to yell. We're supposed to be quiet here," as he walked over and disappeared into the stacks as well.

Quickly, Alfred darted out to the table, tossed the sketchbook into Himaruya's bag, threw the bag over his back and ran back to the entrance of the library. Kiku could only watch this happen, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He decided he might as well catch up with Alfred rather than get caught spying on a target who's backpack had just been stolen. Kiku continued to crawl around the shorter shelves, standing back up and dusting off his knees only once he was hidden by the taller shelves. He left the library and, not finding Alfred, proceeded down into the stairwell from which he had come up. Alfred was waiting for him there on the landing. He grinned at Kiku, to which Kiku shook his head and asked, "What were you thinking?"

"I figured if he didn't have his sketchbook, he couldn't draw, right? We have all of his drawings now, so he can't do anything with them." Kiku decided it may not be the best idea to point out that Himaruya could always redo everything. "Let's just go. I'm getting a bit tired. The jet lag may be kicking in."

"Oh, okay! Sure, we can go home so you can crash, and I'll look through this stuff a bit." Kiku nodded. Although Kiku had said he was tired only as a diversion, as he dragged his feet back to the car he realized it was quite true. He decided to just relax at America's house tonight. Coming up with a real plan could wait until tomorrow.

It was a short drive to America's home in Brooklyn. After entering his large flat, Japan put his things away in the guest room and settled on the couch. He noticed a stack of video games near the television and called to America in the kitchen, "Did you get some new games?"

"Yeah! You'd like that one on top. Why don't you put it in? I'm just getting some food," America called back. Japan turned on the system and set the game on multiplayer for the both of them. America grabbed a few bags of snack food to spread out over the coffee table as lunch and joined him. But, to Japan's surprise, instead of grabbing the other controller, America began digging through Himaruya's backpack and pulled out the sketchbook. He flipped through the book, sometimes briefly glancing at a page or staring intently at another.

"Were we going to play this?" Japan asked, holding up the controller. America glanced up. "Oh, I thought you were just gonna play by yourself. I was gonna look through this, but sure, I'll play with you." America shifted on the couch and reached for the other controller. "No, that's alright," Japan said. "If you wanted to go through the sketchbook, that would be best. Can you read it though?"

"Of course I can read it! My Japanese has gotten a lot better you know!" America snatched the sketchbook again, opened it to a random page, and began reading the notes with the book held close to his face and a slight pout on his lips. Japan smiled lightly and watched him for a moment. Quickly, America's light pout turned into a deep frown and he shoved the book into Japan's hands. Japan smiled and inched closer to his friend so they could look at the book together. "Let's see…"

Japan opened the book to a random page and began flipping through them. Each page was littered with small scribbles and just as many notes as doodles. After a few minutes, he finally held it out to America to show him. "This page here, and the next few, are all character notes for you."

"Cool! So I am in the story?" America asked, flipping through the pages and finding a quick character design. "Is this supposed to be me?" he asked, pointing to the drawing. Japan laughed when he saw it. "Yes, I believe so. The sparkles don't really fit you do they? Oh…"

"Oh?"

Japan pointed to the bottom of the page. "Here. It looks like he wrote you out and decided to just focus on the Axis." America's shoulders fell and he groaned, "Aww, come on. Not cool. Well, this guy doesn't look like me anyway. What's this DDDDD mean?"

"That's supposed to be your laugh."

"What? Dude, he doesn't have my character at all." Japan nodded and continued flipping through the notebook, America peeking at it over his shoulder. "There's quite a lot of writing in here. I'm surprised by how many notes there are compared to drawings." Japan quickly skimmed through the pages from back to front. His eyes widened with each passing page. As he neared the front, he exclaimed, "I-is this whole notebook about his webcomic?"

"Is it?" America asked.

"It…it does look like it," Japan murmured to himself. He buried his face in the book and flipped through the pages again to be sure. "We really may have all of his notes for making the comic," he said in disbelief.

America laughed. "You see! I told you I have awesome ideas! He'll never be able to finish his comic without all these notes!"

"I...that actually may be true. Did we really do it? Was it really this easy?"

"Yeah totally! At this point, he's probably so discouraged that he'd just go focus on a whole other comic idea all together!"

"This may actually work," Japan agreed.

"Yeah! Because my ideas are awesome!" Japan smiled and finally recomposed himself. "Yes, America, your idea was awesome," he said, handing the notebook back to him.

The two spent the remainder of their afternoon playing video games and snacking on the seemingly limitless amount of food America kept in his kitchen. Just around sunset, Japan began struggling to keep his eyes open and America insisted he go to bed and sleep away his jetlag. Japan agreed, bade his friend good night, and retreated to the guest bedroom for pleasant dreams.

Japan's dreams that night were anything but pleasant. They were pushed aside by the ever invading thoughts of his citizens, from meager worries of children attempting to date to the plaguing stressors of his councilors and government officials. Japan tossed and turned in his sleep as his thoughts were bounced from one to the next until finally settling on one image.

Himaruya buying a new sketchbook.

* * *

><p>AN:

I am so sorry this took so long. I really don't want to be the type of author that takes a month to update. At the moment, I am testing different daily schedules to include both writing and my actual work. Hopefully I will find one that fits so that updates can come quicker.

I originally was not going to give Himaruya any lines in this chapter, but since I felt bad about taking so long, I gave him some as a treat to all of you. The two men that were with Himaruya are his roommates. In Himaruya's New York Life Comics, he refers to them only as Spanish-kun and German-kun, but next chapter I will be giving them real names.

I'm really thrilled at the response to this so far! I'm so glad people like this idea, especially since I intend for there to be some reader input in the future. I will explain what that means when we get to it. Thank you for all the reviews! They really helped in writing this chapter.

Thank you for reading and please review!


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